Oh, RDA. I love you, but you Twitter like a 14-year-old.

Thnx2EVERYBODY4EVERYTHNG!!!

*headdesk*

(Is it wrong that I find it cute?)

---

My mum and I are planning a trip to Stratford-on-Avon to watch Macbeth at the RSC. Somehow, I've never seen a live production of Macbeth. I really wanted to see one particular production, years ago, because it was starring Paul Darrow, but I never managed to get it together. I wish I had; he would've been awesome. Reports in Horizon magazine were very positive (although they might've been biased). In fact, they should have had Jacqueline Pearce as Lady M... imagine... Gareth Thomas as Banquo? Or Duncan? Michael Keating as the porter? Josette Simon as Malcolm? I'm trying not to picture Steven Pacey (I'm sure he's a nice guy, but I loathe Tarrant to the depths of my soul) as Macduff, but I can't seem to stop. I shouldn't have watched that clip from the episode Sarcophagus, yesterday, the one where he and Tarrant - under alien influence - are circling for a fight.

Transcript, just for the joy of it:

AVON: Shut up, Tarrant.
TARRANT: Did you say something to me?
AVON: I said, shut up. I apologise for not realising that you are deaf.
TARRANT: There's something else you don't realize. I don't take any orders from you.
AVON: Well, now that's a great pity, considering that your own ideas are so limited.
TARRANT: Don't try and bluff your way with me, Avon:. I know what's been needling you right from the start. With Blake gone, you thought you'd got it made, didn't you? Thought you'd got control of this ship and a crew of three who'd say, "Yes, Avon. Whatever you want, Avon." But you reckoned without me.
AVON: That wouldn't be too difficult.
TARRANT: Oh, really? I don't think so. When you found me on the Liberator, it was quite a blow. And every time you look at me, it hits you harder, doesn't it? I'm faster than you and I'm sharper. As far as it goes, I've made a success of my life. But you? The only big thing you ever tried to do you failed at. The greatest computer swindle of all time ... but you couldn't quite pull it off, could you? If it hadn't been for Blake, you'd be rotting on Cygnus Alpha right now. No, you failed, Avon. But I win. Not just at games, at life.
AVON: You also talk too much.
TARRANT: Be thankful I'm restricting myself to talk.
AVON: Well now, that's fascinating. You mean you can do something else?
['Alien influence' sound effects come to a peak, and then abruptly die away.]
DAYNA: [Stepping between them] Oh, stop this. What are you doing? Warming up to cutting each other's throats?
TARRANT: [Turns away] Avon. Do you want to forget I said all that?
AVON: It wasn't particularly memorable.
DAYNA: We need sleep. All of us. Even you need sleep, Tarrant.
TARRANT: And tomorrow, everything will look different?
AVON: If it does, you can assume you're on the wrong ship.

After that, I watched a series of Servalan clips. My god, she's magnificent. And evil. "Where there's life, there's threat." How she manages to remind me so much of Margaret Thatcher and yet have me rooting for her, I don't understand. And the bit from Aftermath where she's trying to persuade Avon to join forces with her after the collapse of the old order, saying that between them they could take power and reshape the galaxy in their own image - I wonder what Avon meant when he said "Imagination our only limit? I'd be dead in a week."? I assumed at the time that he was pooh-poohing the idea, and saying that she'd kill him the moment he let his guard down - but now I'm wondering if he meant something else - that with no limits, he would end up destroying himself. Hm. Either is possible. I think Avon had a clear idea of his own dark side - and no illusions about trusting Servalan.

(Also, fandom has warped me. I read this scene entirely differently, nowadays:

BLAKE: Avon, concentrate on Zen. Give priority to the detectors and the navigation systems. And then see if you can get us some scans.
AVON: Is that all? What shall I do with the other hand?
BLAKE: I'll let you know!

Dammit, fandom.)

I have, however, seen King Lear live, several times, including at the RSC. I hate Lear. Sitting through it is like torture. It just won't end. I want them all to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie - and eventually, most of them do, but not soon enough. The only time I've sympathised with Lear himself was in a production starring Ben Thomas from Play School - I hadn't seen him since I was about five, and I was blindsided by unexpected nostalgia.

Okay, I'm done.